


Forget Me Not

by LovelyWords98



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: A lot of original characters, Charles-OOC, Erik-OOC, M/M, M/M but not really, Minor Violence, My First Work in This Fandom, Original Character(s), They don't get together like you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5290283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyWords98/pseuds/LovelyWords98
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles is just a regular kid going to high school... until the new kid Erik shows up... and Charles' world gets flipped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a Tumblr! Names wickedselection with the photo of Jared Padalecki.

            _Life could be worse… I guess_ Charles Xavier   thinks. _I could have an abusive father, I could be homeless, and I could have absolutely no friends._ Although the friends Charles has now are not much better. Mac and Lucy and he go way back—like preschool back. They were there when he first came there all shy and stuttering; they were there when he was eight and his mom died; they were there when his father started spending more hours at the shop and drinking till he couldn’t even remember his own name. They’re still here now when he’s sixteen and knows how to pay the bills and take care of himself while he’s only a Junior. Well, at least they were.

            At the end of their Sophomore year Mac and Lucy finally acknowledged the attraction between them, resulting in nearly ignoring and nearly forgetting their best friend since preschool. _Add them to the list of people who have forgotten me,_ and then in horror Charles thought, _Oh man, I’m becoming bitter, pathetic, and lonely even before my midlife crisis!_

Shaking out of this train of thought, Charles walking towards the only place worse than prison: high school. It was his first day and his only goal was to get to avoid Jeb and get to class. Let’s just say that Jeb and he don’t have a… friendly history.

            Jeb was the local bully complete with a letterman jacket and a group of Neanderthals following him around. And one Charles Xavier   just so happens to be his favorite punching bag and insult tester. It has never gone past a black eye, a few shoves into lockers, the occasional food thrown, and bringing down his view of life temporarily. Every teenager in the area knows that’s not near enough harassment to warrant interference around Pontiac, Illinois. Even though Charles could fight back, he’s not even close in being able to escape Jeb and his buddies when they surround him.

            When he finally sees the school, Charles can practically feel the excitement and hear the hushed tones of the students he passes. Which can only have three things: 1.) there’s a new teacher, 2.) there’s a new student, or 3.) Jeb has finally flunked out.  However, Jeb flunking isn’t happening unless the principle had decided that the school doesn’t need any more state victories. As Charles approaches Mac and Lucy (who are looking at the big double doors upfront) he finally gets an answer.

            There’s a new kid with green eyes that scream trouble. How does he know this? Because he’s staring right at him.

           

            Before Charles can question why Mr. Intense is looking at him, the school bell rings and the mass of teenagers start being herded inside the school. Mac and Lucy only give him a brief “Hey, see ya at lunch!” before they turn and keep walking, leaving Charles to stumble and follow the herd to their first classes.

            Mr. Intense leaves his mind until 6th period French when he comes waltzing in and plops down right next to him. It startles Charles out of the mental to-do list he’s creating and (though he’d never admit it) he lets out an undignified yelp, covering up his face thinking it’s Jeb.  When nothing happens, he risks looking up straight into the face of Mr. Intense—who’s has one eyebrow lifted in a   _what’s your problem_ way, though somehow it’s not harsh… weird.  Charles gulps and slowly lowers his hands, a blush quickly rising to his cheeks as he just gives an uneasy smile. The kid just sits down shooting him a concerned look, Charles just turns to the front and buries is head in his arms until class starts. He didn’t get much sleep the night before, he woke up finding his dad trying to walk to his room then seeing him sit down halfway down the hall and focus on finishing his bottle of whiskey. Charles had to help him there after all the alcohol was gone and after that he couldn’t get back to sleep.

            When class did finally start, he just stared blankly at the syllabus the teacher handed out, since he was could already speak and read fluent French, the teacher had already given Charles his assignment. They didn’t have any higher French classes so in order to challenge him, the teacher gives him other assignments to work on. The assignment is just to read this novel in French and have discussions with the teacher and a review essay by the end of the First Quarter. He snorts, _Guess there are perks to studying outside of school—I don’t have to worry about Jeb being in AP French._ By the end of the class has already decided it’s best just to eat his sack lunch under the tree near the back of the school. He already fully knows that his two best friends will be too busy talking about their future to have an actual conversation with him.

            When the bell finally rings, Charles is out of his chair and on his way to eat his lunch under the tree he found in his freshman year, when he hears a familiar voice yelling his name. Charles mentally curses whoever thought it was a great idea to put a bunch of sweaty, hormonal teenagers in a confined area for several hours a day. Before he can attempt an escape into the sea of people heading wherever, he’s pushed into the lockers and surrounded by Jeb and two of his lackeys.

            “Welcome back to the real world Hobbit! Did you have a nice summer in the Shire?” Jeb sneers at him, the other two making the insult seem worse than it is. As if Jeb poking at his height hasn’t been done in the last three years.

            He may be smart but his tongue has a way to disconnect from his brain and saying something that’s not going to exactly **help** the situation.

            “I did Jeb, it was quite nice to be surrounded by people who have an IQ bigger than their egos.” Said Jesse, false sincerity laced into his voice.

            _Oops_ , Charles realizes ten seconds too late. By that time Charles is already lifted up off the ground, two goons holding him up by the arms, and one very close, very mad Jeb yelling in his face. The fact that Jeb doesn’t brush his teeth is the first thing his brain supplies, the second is that Jeb is trying to use his very limited vocabulary in order to make it even more painfully obvious he shouldn’t have opened his run-away mouth. Charles only has a second to try and get back on the ground before he feels a fist connect to his face, then another, and—nothing. Charles dares to peak with his one good eye (the other throbbing in pain too much to be of any use) and sees Jeb’s surprised face before being abruptly dropped and landing on his backside. When he looks up he sees none other than Mr. Intense standing between him and his tormentors.

            Mr. Intense leans forward towards them and says something Charles can’t hear, but judging from how Jeb steps back and makes a grousing face, it wasn’t exactly charming. When they still don’t move, Mr. Intense takes a step forward.

            ‘I’ve been known to keep my promises,” he says in a light tone, though you’d have to be dense not to hear the underlining threat.

            A crowd has gathered by now and gasps of disbelief can be heard as Jeb turns and leaves, taking his lackeys with him. Charles hadn’t realized that he was holding his breath and still on the ground until his savior turns around and crouches to his level.

            “That’s gonna leave a mark, he did a real number on you,” he mutters to Charles as he assesses the damage on Jesse’s person.

            Charles snorts and without thinking he rolls his eyes and says, “Thanks, that inspires great confidence,” his sarcasm clear. With that Charles tries to stand to regain at least some dignity from being saved like a damsel in distress.

            Unfortunately for him Mr. Intense is too close and Charles is a little light headed, so they end up having to grab a hold of each other to refrain from falling back down. As if that wasn’t embarrassing enough, Charles is reminded that they’re still surrounded by fellow classmates, now all snickering at the picture before them. Mr. Intense lets go, only to grab his forearm and lead him away from the crowd and to the nurse’s office. Charles is in a daze throughout it all and before he knows it, it’s just them two alone in the there.

            The air is thick with tension and Charles is the first to crack and blurt out something- anything- to break it.

            “Who are you anyway? I mean you just came out nowhere and saved me, so I figure I should know your name so I can thank you…” Jesse’s face instantly goes red as his rambling trails off. The other looks at him like he’s sprouted horns and it only serves to make him blush even more.

            “Erik,” he replies after a few seconds of staring with that look again. The same he’s been getting from _Erik_ all day. _Seriously what is up with this dude?_

“Just Erik?” Charles questions.

            “Just Erik,” he replies.

            _“_ Ooh, now you’re being mysterious. Anything else you want rip-off from a cliché crime novel?”Charles doesn’t realize till he’s getting a bewildered look that he actually said that aloud.

            Erik lets out a huff, “Is that anyway to thank the person that just saved you from a beating, _Bouche_?”

            “ _Bouche_? Oh so now we’re talking French? Two can play this game, _Mystérieux,_ ” Charles banters back. Grey-eyes meet green and they instantly break into snickers that quickly turn into load, gut-wrenching laughter. They eventually quiet down, after the nurse comes back and shushes them, and walk in comfortable silence. Looking at the clock, Charles realizes the there’s only one more period until school’s out.

            “What class do you have now?” Erik asks, breaking the silence.

            “Just Study Hall in the Library. You?”

            “Free hour.” Erik smirks down (which makes Charles grudgingly notices he’s shorter by two feet) making Charles glare at him for.

            “Well I’m going home, there’s no point in sticking it out here,” Charles remarks, then guiltily says, “Hey, really, thanks for today. I owe you one.”

            “Cut the crap, those guys needed someone to challenge them. That someone just happened to be me at the exact moment they were picking on you. So no need to “owe me one” _Bouche_ ”

            “Is that gonna be a permanent name for me now? Really? Why not something that means ‘awesome’ or ‘witty’?! You know, something that accurately describes me?” Charles exclaims while making wild gestures.

            Erik just smirks again as they walk out of the school, not bothering to change anything in their backpacks. “Want a lift?” he asks when they reach the side walk across from the school’s parking lot.

            Charles startles a little from the silence being broken and already has a, “no thanks!” on his lips before Erik is already walking ahead to a blue, 1998 Jeep Cherokee. Charles has no choice but to follow, unless he wants to look like an ungrateful jerk. _Which, no. No he doesn’t, thank you very much,_ his brain supplies.

            After Charles gives Erik directions to his house, he decides it’s time for one of his favorite games: _20 Questions._ “So, do you have a last name?” Charles starts off.

            “Yes.”

            “Care to share?”

            “Not particularly.”

            “Okay… do you have any family with you here?”

            “Just an aunt.”

            “What’s her name?”

            “Nina.”

            “Where are your parents?”

            “Don’t know, haven’t seen them in 10 years.”

            Erik has this tone in his voice almost like… resentment, and his body is tense like he wants to hit something. Charles decides bring the conversation back on a neutral topic. “Where did you move here from?”

            “What is this, _20 Questions_?” Erik asks irritably.

            “Yes,” the seriousness in Jesse’s voice making Erik take his eyes off the road briefly to look at him before looking back up front.

            Erik snorts, “Dork,” fondness leaking into the word.

            “Hey! I resent that,” Charles says jokingly, chuckling a little.

            “Alright, I’ll play. What about you? What’s with your parents?” Erik says playfully.

            Charles feels his heart wrench and he gets this sorrowful look on his face, “Camille, my mom, died when I was eight and ever since my dad’s been a drunk, grieving, old man who’s forgotten he still has someone.” Charles spits out bitterly.

            “Oh…,” Erik says, a sort of tense awkwardness enveloping the car. It’s not like Charles hates his dad or is still distraught about his mom’s death—it’s more like depression and anger these days. Though he thought he had it under control, apparently he still can’t talk about it.

            It’s a few minutes later of Charles just staring dumbly out the window before he realizes they’ve pulled up into a familiar gravel driveway with an old, beat-up, white truck sitting in it. _Crap how long have we’ve been here_? Charles panics and it increases tenfold when Erik turns to him.

            “I don’t have any real advice to give you besides what I go by, ‘build a bridge and get over it or else you gonna sink from it weighing you down.’ That’s all I have to say.” Erik says with a look of empathy in his eyes.

            And just like that, the tension is broken and Charles smiles at him, warmth once more filling his chest. With nothing more to say, Charles gets out of the truck and waves goodbye as he travels up to his front door.

            As soon as he walks into the living room he hears the snores of his dad, _I bet he’s… yep_. Just as Charles thought, the man is passed out on the couch, a bottle of _Jack Daniels_ clutched in one hand and a picture of his late wife in the other.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter guys... and yes I'm posting these all at once

Over the next couple months Charles and Erik spend more and more time together at school and become quite close. Charles still doesn’t know what Erik said to Jeb that day, but Jeb doesn’t bother him much anymore; just a shove or snide comment here and there. Though they stay away from the topic of family, they stick more with each other’s hobbies and such, learning new things each day. Erik learns about Jesse’s friends, outlook on life, that one day he wants to go into literature and maybe teach, and some other hobbies. Charles learns that Erik may be tough and cold sometimes, he’s actually pretty caring—he even wants to work in a Family Crisis Center one day.

            On December 22nd Erik invites Charles over to his house to hang-out before they part for Christmas Break. Charles accepts it and doesn’t think twice about it, doesn’t even tell Mac and Lucy (who wanted to hang out after school) or his father about it. By 3:30 they’re already on the road and driving into the newer part of town. These houses were built in the last couple months, so not many people live out here yet… though he can’t blame them with all of them looking like blown-up, red Barbie houses.

            Erik’s house on the inside is full of light browns, vintage-looking furniture, and as they walk down the hall, he sees pictures of different places around the world. _Which is weird_ , his mind supplies, _it’s like they are the sample photos that the frames come with. Everything feels like it’s been forced look homey…_ Before Charles can think too much on this, Erik nudges him and holds out a movie.

            “You wanna watch Thor?” Charles questions once he sees the front of the case.

            “You got something against Marvel?” Erik challenges, quirking an eye-brow down at Jesse. In return, Charles just snorts and grabs the movie from his out-stretched hand then moves around Erik towards what he hopes is the living room. He doesn’t hear foot steps behind him, but he just knows Erik is behind him—one of the first things he learned was that Erik can be pretty sneaky and invisible when he wants to be.

            Around the time that Loki begins talking Thor into fighting the Jotuns, Erik gets up and says, “I’m gonna get a pop. Want one?”

            “As long as it’s not sugar or caffeine free and isn’t diet,” Charles replies, barely taking his eyes off the screen. The only answer he gets is a fond snort (sure to be followed by an eye-roll). Ten minutes later Erik returns and hands the distracted Charles his pop, which he quickly drinks without thinking.

            Somewhere around the time Thor realizes he can’t lift the hammer, everything starts getting fuzzy and harder to process. Charles feels like he’s floating and doesn’t realize he’s lying on his side until he notices Loki’s lying face is sideways. It’s getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open and his body feels like it’s made out of lead.

            Somewhere in the back of his fuzzy-feeling mind he begins to panic because _this_ \- this isn’t normal. But he rapidly forgets about it when Erik’s pained face comes into vie—wait. Pained? He tries to focus more, but it’s nearly impossible now.

            The last things he hears is Erik whispering, “I’m sorry Jess. I’m so sorry. Sorry…” before everything goes black.


	3. Chapter 3

Mr. Xavier   looks at the television with pain filled eyes. He lifts the bottle of scotch to his mouth as the newsman starts talking on the screen, not wanting to hear what they have to say.

            _“It’s been three days since the disappearance of Charles Xavier. This young man was last seen at the public high school and friends and family say he never came home. Local authorities are now suspecting a run-away case. If you see this boy, please contact the number on your screen. Back to you Louise.”_

            _“Thanks, Jeff. In other news police have found the stolen car of Miss. Jackson 15 miles north of town. The car…”_

            He tunes out the rest and gulps down more and more of the burning liquid.

 

.................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

 

 

            Charles wakes up to throbbing pain in his head and the biting pain around his neck and right ankle. He groans and attempts to feel his neck—only to be stopped by a hard, cold metal shackle. That wakes him up fully. He tries to jump up, but his met with resistance as the shackles around his neck and his ankle (he now realizes) pull him back down. _Well that explains the biting pain,_ he realizes, the panic starting to build in his chest.

            “Wouldn’t try that if I was you; ‘already rubbed raw the areas with the shackles,” a matter-of-fact voice says suddenly. Charles scrambles on hands and knee into the corner nearest to him and looks wildly around the dim room. When his eyes adjust, he sees a man leaning against the wall, looking at a clip-board, and seemingly uninterested in the entire situation. “Well, now that you’re finally FULLY awake… let’s begin shall we?” The man kicks off the wall and proceeds to walk slowly to him like a jungle cat preparing to eat his prey. Charles’ breathe comes out shallower and shallower the closer the man gets, panic coming to a peak. In the few seconds it took for the man to stand in front of Charles (effectively cornering him) he’s already having a full-blown panic attack.

            He can’t concentrate on anything and begins to struggle when he feels hands grab around his wrists. His ears pick up words, but they’re not registering in his brain, “Kid, you need to calm down… Pull it together… Stop being a … CHARLES!” He feels a hard slap against his face and everything abruptly comes back to focus. Charles looks up and notices he’s been removed from the corner and the man is now back up a few feet, looking disdainfully down at him.

“Ho- How do you know my name?” Is the first thing that comes to Charles’ mind and out his mouth. To his surprise the man laughs.

            “Oh, we know everything about you Charles,” he says condescendingly, “We know your mother died when you were eight- poor thing- and all the stuff between then and now. You’ve intrigued the Boss with how invisible you are to those around you and how you’re quite smart. Though, what a shame you couldn’t see right through Erik—well that is his specialty I suppose…” The man continues talking after that, but it is lost on Charles once that last sentence catches up with him. _Erik… Erik brought him here? Erik did this?_ Charles processes, then it all comes rushing back.

            The pop. The fuzzy, heavy feeling of his mind and body. The blacking out. Erik did this. The same one who defended him from Jeb, befriended him the first day of school, looks at him with those intense green-eyes like he’s always assessing something, and… _oh_. It all makes sense now: why he never mentioned a last name, doesn’t talk about family, always assessing, powerful yet discreet, and his house looked like it was set-up to look friendly. It was all staged.

            He snaps out of it and tries to focus on what the man in front of him is still rambling about. “…anyway, enough of my opinions. Let’s try this again—do try to keep up. Charles Xavier, you have been chosen to be the next recruit of this organization- _congrats_ \- we wish all the luck through training and blah, blah, blah. The End. Any questions?” The man looks down at him Charles feels like he’s going to be sick.

            “What do you mean chosen? Chosen for what?” Charles’ voice shakes a little in the beginning, but grows stronger the angrier he gets. He wants answers. _Now_.

            “Oooh _, tough guy_. Don’t worry we’ll break that soon enough and then build it back from the ground up. As for those questions: once you’ve been trained well enough and proven loyal, you’ll be used for whatever missions the Boss gives. Kapeesh? Kapash. Okay, moving on!” The man turns around and picks something up and places it in front of Jesse. It’s food, but some that look worse than the schools’.

            Evidently the man sees his disdain and off-handily mentions, “You’ll want to eat up. Once you start training you’ll be so hungry that you won’t care what goes in that pie-hole. ‘Preciate it while you can, because if you mess up or don’t improve at their pace in training—you won’t have anything to eat.” With that, the man swiftly leaves through the metal door on the opposite side of the room.

            Charles takes this time to observe. There are no windows and he thankfully still has his clothes on. Actually… the same ones he passed out—the metal door opens again and the light is blinding compared to the dimness of the room he’s stuck in. Once his eyes focus again he sees the one person that makes him relieved and hatred for at the same time. Erik.

            He has the audacity to smile ay him, but that smile quickly vanishes when he takes in Charles’ mood. _He’s always been able to read me, why should now be any different_ , Charles thinks bitterly.

            “Charles I can explain— okay, maybe not in the best way…” Erik trails off sheepishly, like this is some _game._

            “You have got to be joking,” Charles deadpans, “I’m chained to a wall by neck and foot, in some room that looks like a copy from some Saw movie and you’re acting _sheepish_ ”

            Erik comes forward and gets on his knees right in front of Charles, the food tray the only thing between them. “Charles, listen to me. I tried to get them to reconsider you. But you were the only recruit this year. I swear—!” Erik is cut off by Charles punching him in the face, _though not very hard…_ he notes sourly.

            Charles curls into himself, blocking out Erik, and trying to forget everything that’s happened since they met. He must’ve fallen asleep, because one he uncurls, Erik is gone.                                                  

 

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            What he assumes is the next morning (his watch is broken) the same man from yesterday kicks him awake and unshackles him from the wall, only to handcuff him and drag him out the metal door. Once again he must adjust his eyes and he finds them heading down a white hallway into a larger room (white as well). There are three people on a line with standing straight with hands behind their backs, all looking at him with varying degrees of interest and disdain. Erik is one of them and Charles takes in some smug pride when he sees a small scratch on his face from when he slapped him.  They’re not the only people here, many others are here, but are either too focused on what looks to be all sorts of training or they just don’t care. _Or maybe they’ve just seen this so many times before_ , his mind says unhelpfully.

            “Alright newbie, these will be your teachers. First up is Gerald- he’ll be strengthening your knowledge and mental abilities. Then there’s Nina- your—“

            “Wait. As in Erik’s Aunt Nina?” Charles interrupts without thought.

            The man laughs at him and chokes out, “Uh-oh Gerald. Looks like you have a lot of work to do!” Gerald regards him like he’s slime and Jesse’s cheeks burn bright red.

            “Enough,” Erik speaks up, “We don’t have time to fool around, the Boss said we’ve already wasted enough time getting him here, so we must begin—“

            “Hold up, buddy! Whose fault is that, huh? You’re the one who was dragging on the two of yous’ time together!” The man practically growls, while Gerald cringes at the disregard for proper English.

            Erik and other man are now only a hairs breathe away. Even though Erik’s shorter than the man by a foot and the other is built like a truck, he still seems the most intimidating. Jesse’s betting big guy there will throw the first punch but then he sees Nina move towards them like an angry storm.

            “ENOUGH!” Nina yells, getting in between the two. It’s tense for a few more seconds before it’s brushed aside

            “Whatever,” the other man mumbles and turns back to him,” like I was saying—Nina will be your weapons trainer and your friend there will be your stealth trainer. As for me, my name’s Claude and I’ll be teaching you how to fight.” With that said, he’s unhand cuffed and thrown new clothes, _Claude_ points the door on the left of the room by wall of terrifying looking knives and guns. “Meet Gerald in that room in five.”

            Everyone disperses after that and Erik doesn’t even look back. Charles’ never felt more alone and scared in his life.

            A week later and Charles can honestly say he rather deal with Jeb every day of his life than go through what he’s experienced this past week.

            The metallic taste of blood in his mouth makes him want to puke, but he doesn’t want to have to live with that smell. Nina had tried to spar with him today using knives and it resulted in a cut lip and even more bruises than Clause left. He’s already had his meal taken away once and tonight will be his second, _stupid weapons training… not my fault you decided hands-on training would be the way to go._ Not only that but Charles is only passable at stealth, which only fuels Erik’s method of training: INSULTS. It doesn’t help that Charles still feels happy to see him until he remembers why he’s angry at Erik. Charles blames those moments on the memory of Erik saying sorry to him and what he told him the last time Erik was in this cell with him. _Seriously, what’s up with that? Why would he be sorry?_ Charles wonders

            They still chain him up every night and he’s learned to sleep at an angle that won’t cause the chains to rub his skin raw. The time alone in his cell at night had left him to think about his father and who’s going to take care of him now, if Mac and Lucy even miss him, and if the cops have given up.  He hates his time alone.

            He’s broken out of his pity party (that’s been an ongoing thing since he got back from Erik’s training part) by the metal door opening up. Erik stands there and for a minute it’s like they’re back at the nurses office and green-eyes meet gray. The moments broken though when Charles’ eyes harden and he looks away.

            Erik sighs, makes his way over to and goes on his knees (much like how he was a week ago) and whispers, “Charles you don’t have to say anything, just hear me out.” Charles looks up abruptly because he’s never heard Erik sound so sincere, not even when they talked about their troubles before. He finally nods and keep his eyes on Erik’s green ones. If there’s one thing he’s always known: the eyes tell everything; Charles told Erik about this, so of course Erik is going to use it to his advantage.

            “On one condition: you hide nothing. If I catch you lying…” Charles can’t finish that threat. What can he do? Yell? Scream profanities at him? Charles is as capable of harming Erika this point as his dad not drinking for more than 12 hours.

            One of Erik’s old smiles comes back and he proceeds with caution, “The very first thing you need to know is… I never lied to you—at least not about me personally. I’m still the same Erik you met on the first day of school, though slightly more cool,” Erik jokes, but clears his throat awkwardly when Jesse’s gives him an unimpressed look.

            “Continue,” Charles deadpans.

            “Alright. What I said last week was completely true, but the Boss said you were the only recruit this year and he had high hopes for you. Charles—crap I should probably explain that. Okay. Every five years they take in recruits and only a few survive. I was taken ten years ago when I was seven and have been promoted to a teacher since-anyway- the point is, is that I had no other choice. But Jess, you’ve got to understand that part: I WANTED to prevent you from coming here. At first you were just my mission, but I swear… by the end you were my friend and I wanted to save you. I never lied to you about my past-well I mean- at least not about not seeing my parents since I was little. But the point is… is that you’re still my friend and I still want to save you. I know that there’s still more that need to be said and you probably won’t forgive me for a long while but…” Erik licked his lips, “but that’s how well I know you. You will forgive me eventually, because you’re a good person Charles. You don’t belong in a place like this.”

            Throughout Erik’s little explanation, his arms were constantly making gestures and he started talking a little faster like he didn’t know how to say it all. By the end his voice was back to a whisper but more confident, like Charles, _and only Charles,_ needed to hear that.

            Charles didn’t say anything for the longest time, just continued to stare at Erik, watching him squirm and grow nervous with each passing silence.

            “You’re right, I won’t forgive you for a while” Charles finally muttered.

            Erik grimaced and looked at his hands, now resting limply on his lap. “I can accept that.” Erik looked back up to Charles’ gray-eyes, “But you never denied you the rest of it, so there’s still hope.” With that, Erik got up and walked to the door, but before he opened it, he looked back and around the area of the cell until he was back on Charles’ tired face. “It’s not like either of us are going anywhere,” then he walked out and locked the door.

            It wasn’t until Charles was about to fall asleep that it hit him: Erik was just as much as a prisoner here as him, maybe even worse. Charles has some serious thinking to do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter... I'm sensing a pattern.

4 Years pass and with it: Charles becomes dangerous, strong, and stealthy. He’s already figured out that this organization basically trains you to kill and get things done for the boss…thankfully he’s still looked at as a trainee. Around the 6th month mark it’s rare for him to be punished and the teachers step up their lessons, not expecting him to catch on that quickly. Charles learns that there are a lot more people than he originally thought where here and some of them are around his age and hate their situations just as much. So they form their own little support group where they can at least find some stability. For this he’s thankful because over the years many have died either of missions or suicide and many (like him) are nervous. Though, he can thank his stability on Erik.

            It was around the first year that Charles forgave Erik and took another 5 months for him to be trusted. Though he can’t say he regrets it—Erik helps him cope with it all and gives him pointers whenever he visits his cell. He tells Charles to use the despair that comes to his advantage and work even harder to become stronger. It’s almost like it was before he was taken. Almost.

            They move locations every year, though no one, not even the teachers, know where. Charles and Erik make a game out of it: each take a turn guessing and stating evidence for it, trying to disprove the others theory. With each new location the food still tastes like dirt and despair and all recruits still get cells in blocks that are guarded and locked—though they’re not chained anymore.

            What’s interesting about this time of year is that 2 months prior that it’s the only time anyone sees the Boss and even though he only sees glimpses- the Boss screams of power. He’s only a little shorter than Claude, has jet-black hair, and the suits he’s always wearing hide any knowledge on his muscles. The rest about the boss is clouded in mystery.

            _At least I can defend myself against Jeb now,_ Charles thinks bitterly, but quickly berates himself for that thought. He can’t think about his old life… it’s about the only time he knows why all the other people here commit suicide. What Erik said to him when they first met is the only thing he intentionally remembers from that time, _build a bridge and get over it or else you gonna sink from it weighing you down._

_................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................._

 

 

            They’re sitting in comfortable silence in the new training room after a game of _Where Are We?_ Charles was given the task of unpacking the equipment and Erik was chosen to help and supervise.

            “Erik?” Charles breaks the silence.

            Erik hums back, “Mmmh?”

            “Why don’t we find out where we are?” Charles suggests, it’s not the first time he’s thought this, just the first to be spoken aloud.

            Erik freezes, but before he can reply, Charles continues, “We all saw those train tracks and the base isn’t too far from them. We could time it out—don’t give me that look,” Charles scolds Erik. “It’s the first real chance we have of escaping and we both know that you want that as badly as I do.”

            “The Boss already knows this, Charles. That’s why we have actual guard rotations and better locks in this compound,” Erik states calmly, tension not clearing from his body.

            “So you have thought of it?”

            “Of course I have Charles!” Erik explodes suddenly, they go deathly quiet after that, not wanting anyone to hear them.

            After a few minutes, Charles whispers, “It’s not like we’re going to be alone, were not the only ones who want to escape—everyone in my block wants out! We. Have. A. CHANCE. Let’s take it.” Charles is now fully facing Erik and refuses to break eye-contact.

            Erik pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters, “Fine. But until we’re sure we have people on our side—we do nothing. So we’ll start probing to see if people want to leave. But, be **discreet** about it. We don’t want to regret this.”

            For the first time in a long time, they finally have a chance.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Definitely a pattern here. Almost there!

Erik says he’ll take care of the train time and guards, but Charles is left to convince his block-mates. So over the month Charles starts lighting little sparks of interest in escaping when they get out and in of their block. Before the end of the month everyone in his block is fantasizing about what they’d do if they got out and that’s when Charles makes his move.

            Right away after the guard unlocks their cells from directly outside their block, Charles confronts them. He tells them how if they band together, they have a real chance and how he knows how they can get out. _Well Erik’s working on that but… they don’t need to know that_.

            At the end of his little speech Charles purposely talks in an air of indifference, “It’s up to you all. We could all rot in here and spend the rest of our days doing someone- who we barely see- else’s dirty work. Or… we could make a run for it, and at least try to fight for the life that was taken from us. I’ll leave you all with that thought,” and just in time, the door opens and Charles walks out the door of their cell block without a glance back.

            Before he can make it past 3 feet though, the guard grabs him; Charles feels his heart pounding as thinks that he was overheard and he just prays that Erik doesn’t get caught. However, what the guard says in a hushed tone is not what he was expecting in the slightest.

            “Relax, I’m a friend of Erik’s. I know what you guys are planning and I think you’re crazy…but I’m in. I’ll time the train and guard rotation, good luck,” then he lets go and resumes his post and Erik sees his name tag says _Luke_.

            Later that day Charles tells Erik about Luke and they talk about what to do if Charles’ block-mates don’t want any part of it. However, it’s all for nothing once it’s time to return to his cell and each person agrees to escape.

            Erik and Charles begin to plan whenever they can, going as far as Erik-as his stealth teacher- saying Charles needs more training just so they can plan more. This continues over the next 5 months until, finally, they have it. It takes an additional 5 months for Charles to teach his block-mates about it.

            It’s the day of the escape and they have less than 12 hours till it begins and Charles can feel the excitement running throughout his body. He’s been dreaming of this chance for 4 years, Erik’s been waiting longer, and now…he’s just hoping it goes according to plan.

            The day passes in a blur and before he knows it, Charles is back in his cell. He can’t believe the time is here until he feels a tiny bit of anxiety about Erik getting to them. He should just be finishing up cleaning his training area which means… _Oh sweet walnuts, the guards will be rotating any minute._ It just hit him now that this is happening—no more seeing Claude’s huge muscles and sneer. No more of Nina’s death glare when he uses her long, black hair against her. No more of Gerald’s beady-eyes and constant attacks on his mental health. No more…Erik. Erik has already stated that they are stuck together. But what about after they escape?

            Charles is startled out of his train of thought when he hears the familiar sound of the door unlocking. “It’s show time,” he breathes and banishes all other thoughts that don’t involve the escape. Charles takes a step out of his cell and motions for the others to follow his lead as they creep up to the door waiting for Luke. They’re five feet before the door when it opens and Luke and Erik are standing there with a few people from Erik’s block.

            Luke gives them a serious look and whispers, “We have two minutes to get to the docks before anyone one notices.” He looks at his watch and adds, “it’s 10:50 pm, the train leaves at 11. Let’s go!”

            Then they’re running. Charles is grateful for the first for Erik’s stealth lessons or they were bound to draw attention to themselves. They make it to the docks only to see a familiar person in a suit jacket about to get into the car.

            “Oh no...” Erik whispers, though he’s pretty sure only he can hear it. Jess and Erik had planned this near perfectly, except… the Boss always leaves at least two months before they move again.

            It’s too late to try and hide, he’s already noticed them and is smirking. Charles sees him reach for his pocket and whether it be a gun, an alarm, or whatever else—Charles can’t let him reach it.

            “Get the others out,” is all Charles says to Erik and Luke without taking his eyes the Boss’s hand and charges him. They end up rolling on the ground next to the car and he hears Erik yelling for the rest of them to get to the train.

            Charles learns quite quickly that the Boss is stronger than he looks as he ends up only getting in a few good punches before he’s being _kicked_ off. He gets back up, but is met with a punch to his gut followed by a knee to the face and is temporarily disoriented. Charles reaches for the knife he strapped to his ankle under the pants and makes an upward slash movement, getting the Boss in the forearm. The Boss steps back and Charles is met with malicious and angry eyes that make him falter for one second—but that’s all the Boss needs. Jesse’s legs are swept out from under him and he barely feels his head connect with the pavement with all the adrenaline pumping through him. His knife is ripped from his grasp and he’s pulled up by the neck of his black t-shirt to the face of the Boss.

            He feels the cool metal pressed against his neck and the Boss hisses out, “Hello Charles Xavier  . I did have high hopes for you here and wished to see you in action,” a cruel smirk forms on his lips. “Looks like we’ll never see that happen, don’t worry, I’ll take good care of Erik for you.” Charles wraps his hands around the Boss’s grip and tries to fight when he mentions Erik, but the blood loss from his head is getting to him now. He’s expecting the end when feel more than sees the Boss viscously ripped from him and Charles drops to the ground.

            Charles looks over and sees Luke struggling with the Boss—he’s trying to reach for the gun at his hip, but the Boss reaches it first. When Luke tries to take it, Charles gets up and loses sight of the gun, but knows that it’s somewhere between the two struggling figures. Just when Charles about to reach them, he hears two gun shots and Luke goes still, an unfocussed look now on his face. A small stream of blood flows from Luke’s mouth and he and the Boss lets him drop to the floor. Luke focuses on Charles for a moment and smiles before the light leaves his eyes for good.

            “NO!” Charles screams and he tackles the Boss and, like the beginning of the fight, they roll. Except this time Charles takes a hold of the gun that’s still clutched in the Boss’s hand and once he’s on top of him he doesn’t even hesitate with unleashing five bullets into the Boss’s chest. He’s handled guns before and knows how the cold metal fits in his hand, but now it feels like it’s burning him as he looks, with empty eyes, down at the prone form beneath him.

            The pistol from Charles’ hand and he faintly acknowledges that the other guards have come and rushing towards the train. All Charles can register is, _Luke’s dead. I have to find Erik. Luke’s dead. I have to find Erik…_ over and over again like a mantra in his head.

The sound of the train leaving and his nose becoming filled with the smell of sweat and blood as an arm wraps around him finally snaps him out of it.

            “Come on, Jess. We’ve fought them off as long as I could, but we’ve got to go!” Erik yells over the noise of gunshots and screams. Charles feels relief wash over him once he realizes it is Erik helping him, but worries when he sees a knife wound on his side. He has no time, however, to address it though as Erik urges them to run after the leaving train. The ones that made it into the boxcar of the train reach out for their hands as Erik and Charles get closer. Erik pushes him in front and the hands grab him and pull him up, then it’s Erik’s turn and as soon as he’s in the boxcar he crawls towards him. Charles rips material from his shirt and wraps it around Erik’s wound and keep pressure on it.

            Once they catch their breaths, they take one look at each other all sweaty, beaten-up and bloody and smiling, because… they finally made it out. All the years of suffering and doing someone else’s dirty work are over. Now it’s just them and they’re finally free. Charles tries not to think about anything but that.

            They’re still sitting with Charles leaning over Erik as they hear everyone cheer as the compound disappears in the distance and they approach a bridge. Erik can feel each shallow breath of his and knows the wound is deeper than he originally thought, but there finally out and nearly nothing else matters. Except…

            Erik grabs Charles’ hand and puts it over his still rapidly beating heat and whispers so only Charles can hear, “We made it and we’re alive, Charles…I can’t remember the last time I was this happy.” Erik pauses for a moment, then chuckles lightly and brings their hands back down. “No, I can remember. It was with you. It’s always with you. The only person in my life who’s more important to me than anything is you, and I am the luckiest person in the world for that very reason. Thank you Charles, for coming into my life and screwing everything up,” Charles can feel his eyes burning and tears rolling down his face as he lets out a broken laugh. “I’m grateful we met Charles Xavier,” Erik finishes looking straight into the others gray eyes.

            Charles’ chest fills with warmth and is relieved that he’s not alone in this. He’s so grateful- despite all that’s happened- that he met Erik too. _I love you_ is on the tip of his tongue and they’re so close. Erik must sense something because he’s moving closer to Charles and Charles can’t help but move towards him like a gravitational pull.  

            Before anything can happen there’s a sudden jolt followed by a loud sound and the boxcar is quickly filling with the smoke. Charles only has time to take one last look at Erik before another one happens and the train flips…straight off the bridge and into the unforgiving water below. Something hits his head for the second time in an hour and the last thing he feels is Erik’s hand slipping out of his as the world fades to black.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!!!!

Muffled, wailing sounds and red and blue lights are the first things he notices when he awakens. The second is the feeling of pain, blood, and mud covering him. Third thing… someone’s holding his hand. He abruptly looks over and notices a pale-nearly-blue lipped guy lying next to him, the stranger’s left hand is laying limp in his warm one. Instead of pulling away and screaming, he’s overcome with sorrow at seeing the dead body and reaches over to brush the wet ( _I’m all wet too_ , he realizes) hair from the man’s face. _Erik…_ his mind supplies and he just knows that behind those closed eye-lids, he has green eyes. But he has no idea how he knows that, he’s never even seen this man before or at least he can’t remember—wait.  It’s not just this man he doesn’t remember, he can’t remember _anything about himself_.

            He doesn’t have time to panic about why because he hears a “We’ve found a live one,” like he’s a fish, and hears muffled footsteps coming closer. _Why is everything muffled?_ He questions before the feeling of hands pulling him onto his feet take over his thought. He wants to fight, strangely enough, and keep them from separating him and _Erik._ But he can’t as others swarm Erik and they drag him to an ambulance.

            Once he’s settled on the back of it the police ask, “What’s your name, son?” The first thing that he thinks of is _Charles_ , so he blurts that out. They nod and proceed to ask him more questions about why he’s here and such. So Charles tells them what he found out: he can’t remember anything about himself, sounds are muffled, and only knows that the man he woke up next to is named Erik. The police take notes and one of the officers goes to notify the coiner about the dead man’s name, while the paramedic looks at the ear that, Charles dimly notices, is bleeding.

            After that the cops go to another area and he takes in the sight before him. There’s a few pieces of a train sticking out of the water, some are on the bridge above, there are so many people running around and some are behind police tape with cameras. Black body bags are lined up only a few feet away and he sees Erik being zipped up in one to join the others.

            “We’ll have to take you to the Summerland Hospital to check for permanent any permanent damage to both your ear and memory, but you’re going to live,” the paramedic states abruptly. It startles him out of his observations.

            “Summerland?” he questions.

            The paramedic looks at him with sympathy and speaks softly like one would to a child, “Don’t worry, I understand. It’s in British Columbia, Canada.” Charles just gives her a blank look and she turns back to packing. He turns back to the scene before him, but finds someone standing in his way.

            Before he can look up, a hand sticks out for a handshake and he hears, “Hello, my names Officer Gerald. I have been assigned to look after you. Jesse, right?” Charles looks up and sees a brown-haired man with beady, little eyes. _He looks familiar…_ Charles thinks suspiciously.

            “Have we met before?” He questions, brows furrowed like he trying to figure it out himself.

            “I’m afraid we haven’t met until this very moment. Shame about your friend,” Gerald states smoothly.

            There’s something about him that Charles doesn’t trust, so he gets up and firmly replies, “I think I can look after myself, thank you,” and strides away. Charles didn’t see Gerald’s irritated face as he spoke into a receiver at his ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys hate me for the ending? };D  
> Let me see/hear your comments!!!!!!
> 
> I have a tumblr!

**Author's Note:**

> Well... how was it? I accept all kudos and comments. This is my first fanfic, but let me hear the reviews! Hope you enjoyed and if it gets a fair amount of kudos then maybe I'll continue this on. If there's a person that's named Jesse in here- please let me know and I'll fix this straight away. Thanks!


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